


A Portent and a Promise

by Meatball42



Category: Midsummer Night's Dream - Shakespeare
Genre: Fae & Fairies, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Magic, Nature, Oaths & Vows, Pre-Series, Prophecy, magicmagicpre-spre-sprophprophgriefgriefvowvow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 08:55:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meatball42/pseuds/Meatball42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'His mother was a vot'ress of my order/... And for her sake do I rear up her boy/ And for her sake I will not part with him.' This is the story of Titania's vot'ress, and of the fairy queen's promise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Portent and a Promise

**Author's Note:**

> Writing fanfiction for English is the best assignment ever :D

Lakshmi stirred the ginger tea with a small twig, checking the base of the carved wood teacup to check that it had not been scorched. She set it on the mossy table and sighed at its singularity. Sitting straight-backed, she reached forth a weathered hand to turn one of the flowers in the centerpiece just so, making the sunset streaming through the window catch its petals and transform it to a burnt umber shade.

A last look around her tree hollow home proved that everything was neat and tidy. Lakshmi took in a deep breath, enjoying the vapors of lily perfumes and sizzling, spices dishes that were carried on the breeze from the nearby celebrations, but she did not smile as she usually would from the scents of her sisters' festivities. Instead she slumped in her seat.

The quick padding from outside the hollow warned of Jhonka's approach. The young fairy soared on a warm updraft to land on the windowsill, looking no larger than a sparrow to Lakshmi's human eyes. Jhonka's happiness caused small fairy lights to radiate from her hair and dance around the walls of Lakshmi's home.

"The queen is coming!" Jhonka twittered. The fairy lights danced even more wildly as their creator's eyes rolled in excitement. Jhonka's wings fluttered and she nearly fell through the window.

Lakshmi looked up suddenly, her drooping eyes suddenly filling with hope. "But… she was not meant to arrive in India until the moon had waxed again!"

Jhonka nodded. "She is coming for the festival, I am sure of it! She must have heard of my skill with the harp," she boasted, her green skin darkening around her cheeks with pride.

Lakshmi smiled gently. "That must be the reason," she agreed. "Now go! You must practice before she arrives, lest you disappoint her with your lack of preparation," she warned.

"I must indeed!" Jhonka gasped. She disappeared from the window, and the human woman smiled again, this time in admiration of the youth's spirit.

Lakshmi rose and returned to her cooking pot, where she banked the embers. Against her hope, however, she took another cup from the cupboard, this one of china, and set it in place to receive a drink, in case it became necessary.

"Honored Lakshmi?" the voice came hesitantly from the window. Jhonka was peering in nervously. At Lakshmi's patient nod, the fairy fluttered in to land on her shoulder. Jhonka settled down before beginning to twirl three strands of Lakshmi's hair like giant ribbons, braiding them in a pattern. "You do not have to remain here," she said tentatively. "We would be proud for you to take part in our revels."

Lakshmi chuckled softly, making sure the movement did not offset the young fairy from her shoulder. "I am yet too old for your sort of celebrations, young one."

Jhonka snorted. "You are barely fifty, surely," she insisted. "I am nearly two hundred years, and you are still a child!"

The human woman reached up a finger to gently pat Jhonka's head. "Fifty is older for a human than two hundred for the fey folk," she reminded. "And I am tired of heart, my darling."

"Your mate," Jhonka sighed. She stretched her small form to tug comfortingly on Lakshmi's ear. "I do not see why you insist on remaining alone in the hollow you shared. Indeed, would you not be better served with your sisters, letting good wines and the juice of flowers draw out your grief?"

Lakshmi sighed heavily. "When you have lain with a single other for all the elder portions of your life, my blossom, you shall understand how heavy your soul becomes when they are gone, how impossible it is to carry on without their voice in your ear, their presence by your side, their heartbeat echoing yours…" she trailed off. After a moment, she forced a smile onto her face. "But you, young one, I do hope you never feel the loss of a lover as I have. Go on to your revels and leave me to my gloom; the woes of the old must not infringe upon the spirit of the young."

"Yes, wise Lakshmi," Jhonka answered quietly. "Shall I tell Her Majesty that you await her after the festival is ended?"

"Thank you darling," the human murmured. "I would appreciate that very much."

When the fairy had disappeared, Lakshmi wiped away the dewy tear that had pearled in the corner of her eye.

...

As the queen approached, the animals of the humid forest quieted, not in fear, but in peacefulness. The silence did not wake Lakshmi, but her body relaxed in the same tranquility that the other creatures of nature sensed.

"Is that the scent of ginger root tea, brought to me hence on the warm breeze of the forest?"

Lakshmi's lips curled up, though her eyes remained closed, head cushioned on a soft down pillow. "I would not know, Highness. The winds are playful, and shall do whatever they wish."

"I wished that they would bring me to you," Titania replied.

"And how grateful I am that they have done so." Lakshmi opened her eyes, and they gleamed in the vague light of the dawn, hushed as it was by a pale fog.

"Mote brought us word of your husband's death," Titania said softly, entering the hollow and claiming the chair at the mossy table. "I came as soon as my husband's feast was finished."

"Thank you, Highness," Lakshmi nodded, turning her head away. "Your presence is already a balm for my soul."

Titania swept over to the bed and gathered the woman into her arms, holding her cocooned in soft royal robes as she began to shake from tears.

"My attendants and I did weep when we heard of the death of Su'ara," the fairy queen murmured. "He was a dedicated votary, a trusted servant. We were much blessed to have him in our retinue."

She continued to speak gently to Lakshmi for many minutes until the human woman slowed her tears.

"Have I served you well, my Highness?" Lakshmi asked.

The queen smiled down at her servant and cupped her cheek. "You are the only one to whom I can freely express my woes, my private successes, my dreams and my fears, thing which my husband, being male and having the burden of rule on his shoulders, cannot discuss peaceably. Surely you need not ask if you have served well, sister of mine heart?'

Lakshmi smiled tearily. "Tell me of your husband, Highness. Why does he not miss your presence by his side, so soon after his feast?"

Titania lay down beside the human on her bed and drew them together. They watched the rising sun through Lakshmi's window, and Titania answered at length. "It is the Amazon Hippolyta," she said quietly. "My lord is greatly saddened of her upcoming nuptials, and is mourning the loss in his own way, by preparing the finest fairy magic he can spin to bless her engagement."

Lakshmi shook her head in confusion. "I cannot understand, Highness, how you can be so forgiving of your husband's trespasses. Does not his betrayal ache in your heart of hearts? I have heard tell of your great quarrels over the issue of fidelity, which caused thunderstorms to flood the banks of mighty rivers."

The fairy queen laughed softly, the sound brought back to the ears of the two females by the smooth-worn wood of the hollow. "Oberon and I have been married for nearly four thousand years," she explained. "When a couple has such longevity as we, that another may catch his eye or mine is not unexpected, and not unforgivable. Despite that, on occasion my husband loses sight of his propensity for tact, and objection must be raised, if only for the sake of propriety."

"I cannot imagine that another could catch my eye," Lakshmi sighed, wiping the damp of her cheek with a smooth silk kerchief.

Titania shook her head, her long silver hair flowing over the pillow and shimmering in the sunlight that now steamed weakly through the window. "You humans are remarkable creatures," she soothed. "Your spirits can mend, reknit and recomplete themselves from nearly any hardship that you face. Another soul shall come along, you shall see. And they will complete your heart just as Su'ara did."

"No, Highness," Lakshmi said apologetically. "This I know will never be."

Hearing some augury in the voice of her friend, Titania lifted her head from the down pillow. "What echo of time do I hear in thy tone?" she questioned.

Lakshmi could not meet her eyes. "I feel death beating in my heart, as constant as the pulsing waters of the ocean upon the shores. For when the heart of my lover stopped, my own was wounded, crippled, and was tempted to fail itself, forced to shudder on only by that mirroring beat inside my womb, that even now, I sense, grows stronger."

Titania gasped. "You are with child?"

Lakshmi nodded. "The last remains of my dearest husband, but I know that I shall not see him breathe his own in this world."

"Do not say that! Would you not cling to this world for your own child, he or she who shares your blood, your spirit, and that of your husband?" Titania objected, her cheeks growing pale.

"I have heard the omens of the birds that cry in the dusk, seen it in the dove-colored light of the moon in the pool. I cannot deny that path which destiny has laid out for me," Lakshmi explained, eyes glinting with the deep red glow of the rising sun. Finally, she turned to the fairy queen. "That is why I asked if I had served you well."

"You have been the best of my servants," Titania whispered. "I am not disposed to lose you."

Lakshmi's mouth trembled as she held the queen's hand in her own. "And I thee, my lady. But for all the simple gossips, sweetmeats and trinkets we have shared since I swore myself to you at my coming-of-age, promise me this, from your heart to mine."

"Any one wish, and I shall grant it," Titania declared.

"After I am gone, take my son into your entourage," Lakshmi begged. "Honor him as you have honored me, for my own sake and that of Su'ara."

"I shall," the queen swore, the thin stream that traversed her cheek tinted blood-red by the sun. "But please, sister, do not shun life's beauty and pleasure for your grief. If you speak truth, my dearest friend shall be gone within the nine'month. Do not steal away from me before your time is due."

Lakshmi smiled weakly. "I would not dare deprive my Highness of her gossip before I must."

"Today, then, we'll to the shore, and watch the embarked traders at the commencement of their quests for foreign lands. We shall laugh and frolic upon Neptune's shores until your belly is round with child."

"As soon as the sun has claimed her rightful place in the sky, Highness," the human agreed. "And when we must part at last, may my son be for your consolation, that you might remember those happy times in my presence and that of my husband, that you might recall our love and be warmed by it, and pass it unto him."

"I shall afford to him all the love that we have shared," Titania promised. "Now, let this be our last mention of the sorrow until its true time, that is, the end of your time, is upon us. Rise, my sister, that we may begin our last summer spent together on this earth."

With that she rose, taking Lakshmi's hand in hers to draw the human to her feet. The queen kissed her vot'ress and wiped away the last of her tears, and they left the hollow together for what would be the last time.


End file.
